


The Kettle

by lovi



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Feelings Realization, Friendship/Love, Home, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Journey, The Shire, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, post-Grey Havens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 01:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20845511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovi/pseuds/lovi
Summary: Sam receives a letter from someone he hadn't heard from in years, on a subject he couldn't have prepared for.





	The Kettle

It was a slow morning in the Shire, and Sam Gamgee had just put on a kettle. Sunlight cascaded in through the sheer curtains, setting floating dust ablaze in a brilliant yellow. The light song of birds could be heard from just outside the window: They must’ve set up shop in the eave during Winter, thought Sam as he stood by the kettle, appreciating the little variations in their tunes. Just as he turned to settle into his favorite armchair, the front door cracked open and a wide beam of light shot across the floor.

“Hello, Dear.” Rosie beamed as she entered their home, kicking up dust and letting in a flood of sound from the outside. Sam straightened up, surprised by the sudden noise, but relaxed again when he realized who had caused the ruckus. Smiling, he approached her and enveloped her in a soft embrace, drinking in the warmth her clothes had soaked up in the sun.

“Good morning, Darling.” Sam retreated slightly so he could see her face. Her cheeks were pink and her smile was warm. Reaching up, he pushed a curl back behind her ear, rubbing his thumb along her cheek. Rosie was always beautiful, but the Spring made her even more so. She blushed pink with the hydrangeas in the front yard, and her smile shone like the sun on a dewy morning. Sam felt a swell of emotion in him as he retreated more, now just holding onto her hands. “What’re you up to so early in the morning?”

“Oh, nothing really,” Rosie replied as she pulled back. “Just figured I’d head over to the market and pick up some bread, milk, butter; you know, the essentials. Thought the kids might like some toast this morning.” It wasn’t until then that Sam realized her bag was nearly full with groceries. He dashed over to help as she began to put them away. 

“Oh, that’s a great idea. I nearly forgot about breakfast, just put on a kettle.” Sam’s ears heated up with mild embarrassment as he took out the loaf of bread, smiling when he caught glimpse of it. “Raisin bread?! You know half of the loaf’ll be gone by the time they’re up, right?” Rosie smiled, chuckling softly.

“Figured if I heated it up the smell might wake ‘em up a little sooner.”

“Well, it’s mighty hard to resist.”

They fell into a soft and comfortable silence as Rosie began to wash off some berries and Sam returned his attention to outside the window again. The sky was blue and full of huge white clouds that sat like hills upon a meadow. They blew quickly across the plain, and Sam felt happy.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Rosie put down her final strawberry and rushed over to her bag, rummaging through it. She dug out a fairly small envelope decorated with fancy lettering, slightly water-stained. “A letter, for you! I hope it bears good news, but I know you’ll at least be happy about who sent it.” Sam walked over, puzzled, as he accepted the envelope from Rosie and began to scan over the writing on the front. He didn’t even need to read the name, for the penmanship stood out clear as day in his mind.

“Frodo?! Wow, I can’t believe it!” Sam beamed, laughing and hopping up a bit. Rosie stood back, amused and giggling to herself.

“I knew you’d be happy about it.” She put her hand on Sam’s shoulder, rubbing with her thumb in light circles. “You go out in the garden and give it a read over, I’ll keep an eye on the kettle. Take your time.” She leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile spread beneath her lips.

“Okay! Let me know if you need anything; I’ll be out back.” Sam didn’t even bother trying to hang around. This was the giddiest Sam had been in a while: he hadn’t heard from Frodo since he took flight from the Grey Havens. It had been years.

Sam went out the front door, closing it behind him and heading around to the back of the house, where their garden was. It was High Spring, mid-May, and everything was in full bloom. The sun struck the foliage and held the light in place until a soft breeze would come by to not even disrupt it, but rather guide it gently in a new direction. This morning’s soft, thought Sam. He walked to the back of the garden, to an alcove surrounded by sunlit flowers, yet slightly shaded by the tall trees above it. Amidst all the vegetation sat an old stone bench, which Sam proceeded to lower himself onto. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he turned his attention back to the letter, smiling sweetly in admiration of the familiar handwriting. He smelled the envelope, hoping to get some glimpse into the world of his dear friend, but was just expectedly met with the salty scent of the sea. Sam began to open the envelope, being careful not to tear into the beautiful penmanship, and pulled out a couple folded-up pieces of paper. Smiling, he unfurled them: his heart tugged him back into the closest form of familiarity, not even matched by the shire; for his name was written at the top in Frodo’s own hand. He began to read:

_“Dearest Sam,  
It was brought to my attention one morning as I gazed out upon the great mountains of Pelóri and caught the sun rising over their peaks that I never attempted to send you any form of letter. I hope this comes to you at a good time (if it comes to you at all: after all, it does have a long journey ahead of it), and that you are doing well. I hope Rosie and the kids are as wonderful as always: I know you must work so hard to keep your home happy and well, and you deserve just that, a warm and happy home after all the trouble you’ve been through.”_

Sam smiled softly. He had forgotten just how smooth Frodo’s words flowed, like the ink from his pen, all so smooth. Like the strong, stable waters of the Anduin. Sam’s words were like a babbling brook; splashing up in odd places, with an underlying lack of control. But that was okay now. Sam pushed his old insecurities to the back of his mind and continued to read, for he had since grown past them.

_“I am so excited to tell you about all the beautiful things I have experienced since I arrived here. The vegetation is beautiful: you would have a wonderful time documenting their qualities and characteristics. I wish I could send you some seeds to embellish your garden, although I’m sure your garden is already the most lively and vibrant in all of Middle Earth.”_

Sam blushed at that remark.

_“The Pelóri mountains are absolutely astounding: I’ve never seen anything quite like them. They truly tower over you and remind you of your size and place on this earth, which is quite humbling. There are creatures I’ve never seen nor heard of living in the wild much like our bears and deer, or those little rabbits from back in Ithilien. The norm is just different over here: I can tell things are familiar to the land’s residents yet they are so different from wildlife in the Shire. And with such a change in vegetation, climate, and wildlife, one can only imagine how interesting the food is…”_

Sam continued reading as Frodo detailed some of the adventures he had since he arrived. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped open at some of the descriptions he was reading: especially the parts about the elves, which—much to Sam’s delight—Frodo made sure to describe in great detail. He talked about a wonderful welcoming party they went to and the variety of flavorful libations they were offered that night, and about some of Bilbo’s mishaps upon arrival, ranging from leaving the house in his boxers to “accidentally” “coming across” multiple barrels of liquor, of which he cleared a full one before getting caught. He once nearly tumbled down the face of one of the tallest mountains in the world in an attempt to pick a plump berry from the cliffside brush.

Sam chuckled at these stories, for they reminded him of home before the journey; when past, present and future were all simple and bright, and the most exciting part of Sam’s week was getting to learn from Mr. Bilbo. And every now and then there was that sweet moment when Sam would catch a glimpse of brown curls heading into the library, or through the back window from the garden. Sam looked up and gazed at the window, which was still shaded in morning shadow. He smiled at the memory of Frodo, and felt it would be sunny if he were in it, despite how impossible that would be. Returning to his letter, he found he was finally reaching the end of the light-hearted talk. Frodo’s tone was changing, and Sam worried what the problem might be with half the letter still to go.

_“Now, if you can still recall back a thousand years before all my tales about the elves and Bilbo’s antics, you’ll remember that I began this letter by speaking of the mountains, the Pelóri. How I was gazing out upon them and the sun was rising. Well, despite all of the wonder and beauty this place has to offer, I have continually felt one emotion since the day I arrived here, laying beneath all other thoughts and feelings like a rock beneath moss: Loss. It’s like there has been a hole in my heart removed by some fine instrument that can never be replaced no matter how much beauty I see or experience. Ever since the boat lost sight of the Grey Havens I have felt this way, and at first I believed it to be melancholy or some form of homesickness, but I have since uncovered the feeling’s true nature._

_On that morning when the sun began to rise over the mountaintops, I was thinking of you and that letter I never wrote. My mind drifted for a little while as I gazed out over the newly awoken world, until I was suddenly snapped into focus by a bright gleam of gold and silver dancing along the mountainside. Elanor! The beautiful flower of the Lothlorien from forever ago. The name of your daughter; I remember that. Anyways, I ascended the side of the hill where the Elanor began to grow, and eventually decided to lay down among the shimmering flowers and rest a little more._

_As I was gazing up at the blue sky and the long, wispy clouds overhead, with sun rays shooting across the sky like the trails left by Gandalf’s wonderful fireworks, I caught a closer look at an Elanor flower, and finally begun to understand. I’m not sure how much you remember of these flowers, but some are gold, and some are silver, and some grow with both on the same stem. They’re like the sun and the stars: they’re truly beautiful. I realized something this morning, and I’m a little afraid to admit it in such a way, but I have no other means of doing so._

_I think I am in love with you, Sam Gamgee._

_I realized that I am one of those flowers with the shared stem, with you on the other end. That is how my heart feels. And it feels as if a gardener came up and suddenly snipped the other flower off, that is the loss I’ve experienced. You brighten up my life in a way I never could’ve imagined, even in the darkest of times, bringing color to my world and meaning to each step that mingles in with my own. You are golden and beautiful and full of blood that is pumped by the world’s largest and truest heart. Time spent with you is time spent with the most genuine Hobbit I have ever known, and ever will know. You are the sun to my star, the light that guides me and helps me better understand myself; no matter how dark the night is that falls, you will undoubtedly rise and call upon a better day._

_You led me through Mordor. Without you I would be dead. I understand that you have a family and I love and respect them as well, and would never do anything to tear you apart from them. But you, more than anyone, deserve the truth. I do not want to just be in love forever: I want to love you, Sam; really, truthfully, honestly love you. No tricks or gimmicks, just pure, unbridled love. You are a gardener, a Hobbit, a Gamgee; my dearest friend, the One I love the most. Respect is one of the core foundations beneath the emotions I feel for you, and therefore I ask nothing of you, other than to come as you are. Write me a letter if you must, and do not bite your tongue, even if your words may sting. That is okay. I just wanted to tell you how I have been feeling, for nothing of all the beauty in the world has yet compared to the feeling of being by your side and taking hold of your calloused hand._

_Samwise Gamgee: I have loved you from the start and was deaf to it, I will love you until I can’t anymore: and I love you; right now, with every beat of my heart._

_With more honesty than I have ever written with in my life,_  
_Your friend,_  
_Frodo Baggins._

Sam sat on the bench and let the letter slip loosely from his fingers, landing on the cobblestone path beneath his feet. His breath stopped short and he just sat there, feeling his blood pulse through his body, making his hands shake. He looked up at the garden and the flowers were more vibrant than they had ever been. Why was everything so much brighter? Sam stood, feeling his knees wobble as he bent down to pick up the letter. Through the back window the faint yet distinct whistle of the tea kettle could be heard, singing like an angel from heaven. Holding the paper to his heart and listening to the kettle whistle, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the Bag-End gardens, Sam cried.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these lil hobbits, really I do. Hate that my first contribution to them has to be this weird semi-emotional oneshot BUT it is what it is I guess. Once things start to settle down for me again (they've been a bit weird lately) expect a nice full-length fanfic that actually has some form of resolution. I just mainly wanted to highlight the torn emotions Sam would've felt between Frodo and Rosie, if he ever looked at his relationship with Frodo under a different light. OKAY THAT'S IT I'll shut up til my next post, whenever that ends up being. Thanks for reading :)


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